The Station
by matsukanishi09
Summary: It all started at the train...


**I had been piling up my Ryosaku fics at my LJ account. I wrote this particular fic for Wallflowerx07 since I love her so much! XD Standard declaimers apply and if you are interested into reading my other fics that aren't posted in , the link to my LJ account is just in my profile. :D**

**The Station**

He watched her. Again and again and again.

It had always been the same routine for him. He would wait for her by the subway at seven in the morning. He would watch her fumble for her ticket inside her bag, frantically searching for it as if it were lost (But it was never lost...and the spare tickets piled up in his jeans pockets). His piercing eyes would follow her every move until she got into the train, off towards Tokyo University. He would wait for a few more minutes, until someone recognizes him, and he would flee...his job for the day was done, anyway.

He had been doing this routine for two weeks now. Since he came back from the US, he had been watching her enter the subway and ride the train, memorizing the contours of her petite frame and the sound of her boots on the tiled flooring.

Echizen Ryoma just observed her. He never attempted to make a move because he knew that it would be all pointless.

Besides, Ryuzaki Sakuno probably already had a change of heart.

**-o-**

It was a Wednesday morning when he first wanted to go to her. She was forty-five minutes late and she ran panting towards the subway. Her twin braids were disheveled and her forehead sweaty. She was breathing hard for running so hard. Lack of stamina, Ryoma thought and smirked.

She was fumbling inside her bag for the ticket when he saw it.

Hanging on her back was his red racket-the very same racket he had given her before he went back to the US. Ryoma faltered in his step and he merely gaped, contemplating why she ever kept the token he had left her...

His foot stepped forward once more, yet he held back. No, he shouldn't make his presence known. He had caused so much misery in her life...and he wasn't about to let himself interfere with the good course it had finally stumbled itself into after being knocked off track. He owed her that much.

Ryoma just watched as she entered the train once more, the redness of his racket catching his eye even inside the train. He turned around and walked off, all the while gripping his knuckles tight.

**-o-**

She was wearing his cap.

It was a Saturday and she came back from tennis practice. Ryoma sputtered out his drink when she suddenly grabbed the cap from her bag and put it on, the red 'R' imprinted right on her head.

Ryoma suddenly had a feeling of possessiveness.

It was worn-out and dirty, clearly stored inside her bag for so long...and was very well used. Ryoma frowned at the thought that she often used his cap, not wanting to illusion himself that she still felt an inkling of love towards him.

He didn't wait for her to get to the train. He left the half-empty can of Ponta on the bench and walked off.

He didn't see Sakuno grasping the can and looking at him with sad eyes.

**-o-**

"Echizen?"

Ryoma stared at the dumbstruck face of Kawamura. He was in the middle of a delivery, with the white cloth strung on his forehead and the huge box he carried behind him.

It was refreshing to see someone he knew so well out of his tennis jersey.

"Yo." Ryoma raised his hand in acknowledgement, not even bothering to say why he was in the middle of a subway...or more importantly, why he was in Japan.

"W-When did you get back?" Kawamura sat next to him, his eyes still wide as saucers. "Have you told the others-"

Kawamura paused and followed the younger lad's eye of vision. He was fairly certain that the tennis prodigy had not been listening after the initial greeting...and what he saw made his gut clench.

Standing by the platform was Ryuzaki Sakuno...and a guy they both had no idea about. She was smiling and laughing, so carefree and so different than those times when she was with Ryoma.

"T-That's-O-Oi, Echizen!" Kawamura stood up and looked at the lad. He gazed at Ryoma with sad eyes, letting him disappear into the crowd.

**-o-** He had been sleeping.

He was asleep when the ball rolled towards his foot and a very frantic woman searched for it at the middle of the platform.

He was asleep when the woman finally saw the neon ball and walked towards him, determined to get it back and to not embarrass herself.

He was asleep when she took it from his foot and when she realized that he was asleep.

He was asleep when she stood up, fingered the ball and sighed in relief.

"Thank God. I thought I lost you, Ryoma-kun."

But he was wide awake when she said that...

...And was fully alert when she turned around, a dirty tennis ball tucked safely in her palm.

**-o-**

This time, he was riding the train.

It was half-past midnight and the train was mostly empty. He tucked himself under the hood of his jacket, watching the woman sitting across him with calculating eyes.

She was just a meter away...yet he still couldn't tell her the things that he wanted to say.

The dim lights from the outside illuminated her form. She was sleeping, the tennis bag slung loosely on her arm, his red racket protruding. It was refreshing to know that she kept mementos of him...and those mementos were what brought him this close to her again.

He was tired of being the observer. He was tired of just watching her. He wanted her...and he wouldn't start avoiding that fact again.

"You idiots still don't know about the rules of gripping!"

Ryoma's ears perked up and Sakuno suddenly jumped out of her sleep.

"To hit the top spin, it's the western grip, 'ya know!"

They had just entered the train, a bunch of brats who were swinging their rackets aimlessly. An old woman was almost hit in the face and Ryoma, oddly, found the situation a bit funny.

Like a sudden wave of deja vu hit him.

"I'm telling you. Keep the racket like this and hold it like you're shaking hands!"

He swung once more and the amusement suddenly drained out of Ryoma. There was no way out now...

"Please, keep it down."

Ryoma stared at the woman in front of him with wide eyes, surprised that she was the one who told the three brats to stop their nauseating tennis drama.

Ryoma looked at the brat's grip and chuckled.

"That's the eastern grip." He said and smirked, aware of Sakuno's sudden attention. "Don't worry, brat. People get confused between the two."

"Y-You're..." the brat dropped his racket and stepped back. When the train stopped fully, they hurriedly exited, not even bothering to spare another glance at the tennis prodigy.

"R-Ryoma-kun..."

Ryoma looked at her and removed the hood of his jacket from his head, finally revealing his presence. It had been three weeks since he started watching her.

"Ryuzaki."

Sakuno smiled brightly...and for the first time, Ryoma felt at peace.

**end.**

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